


Stop fighting yourself and start fighting for yourself.

by lydiamxrtin



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [6]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Accidental overdose, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29583675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lydiamxrtin/pseuds/lydiamxrtin
Summary: Bad Things Happen Bingo Prompt ● "What have I done” + Tarlos + Overdose.After losing Tim, then nearly his dad in the helicopter crash and now finding out his mom's pregnancy could endanger her life TK's couldn't stop seeing the danger around him and those he cared about.Wanting to numb the pain TK falls back into bad habits.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119380
Comments: 10
Kudos: 146
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Stop fighting yourself and start fighting for yourself.

**Author's Note:**

> Some TK angst because I cannot contain myself! I've had this idea rumbling around in my head for a while and when I saw this request it fit perfectly! I hope you all enjoy it! 💛
> 
> -aj

TK pushed open Carlos' door, throwing his jacket onto the side table as he stepped into the apartment, “How was your day?” Carlos asked, standing in the kitchen.

“Long,” TK sighed. He walked over to the sofa slumping down in it, the thudding in his head persisting. 

Today had been shit.

Correction, the last week had been shit, today had been  _ really _ shit. 

“Mine was fine thanks,” Carlos added, his voice sarcastic but in a playful way. “Did you remember to pick up pasta from the store,” He called over while chopping something.

“Fuck,” TK yelled. After his shift had finished he had just been on complete autopilot coming home, his brain working hard to suppress the itch that was coursing through his body.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Carlos said, coming into the living room, “We’ll just get take out,” He smiled, leaning down to kiss TK forehead.

“I’m not hungry,” TK muttered. His body didn’t want food, it just wanted rest, and something else, TK reached up and rubbed his forehead.

“What’s up,” Carlos asked, standing in front of TK.

“Nothing’s up,” He sighed, running his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends.

Carlos raised a brow, “You’ve barely said anything” He asked, “Normally by now, you would have told me about three different stories about your day,”

TK pushed himself off the sofa, “Well, I don’t have any today,” He coldly said.

He went to walk past his boyfriend when Carlos caught his hand, “Woah what’s going on?” He asked, his hand still clasping TK’s as they stood there.

It was a complex question that one TK wasn’t ready to get into, “Nothing is going on okay I’m just tired,” He said.

Not a complete lie, TK was tired but he neglected to tell Carlos why.

“I’ve seen you tired this-this isn’t tired,” Carlos asked, the worry and care obvious in his voice. 

TK didn’t deserve that worry, that care, “Oh my god, would you just drop it,” he snapped, shaking Carlos's hand off and going into the kitchen. 

“Sorry for worrying about you, it’s what you do when you care about someone,” TK knew that all too well, ever since Tim, ever since his dad had got into that helicopter crash TK couldn’t stop worrying about those he cared about. Last week he found out about his mother's pregnancy. Some quick googling told TK how dangerous that was at his mother's age and the worry since finding out had not left his mind. Every time he went on a call, it felt like he couldn’t breathe till they were all back. When he had the day off and Carlos was working, TK would work himself into a frenzy thinking of the things that could go wrong, all the ways he could get hurt. If the last few months had taught him anything it was that no one was safe. For so many years TK had lived in a bubble where he and his family were invincible; then his father got cancer, then he got shot, then Tim. 

The bubble had burst, and TK had been struggling for air ever since.

“I don’t need you to worry okay,” TK said, looking down at the marble counter, “I’m not a kid, I can look after myself, so just back off,” He knew he was being a dick for no reason, pushing away the one person who had always been there for him; held him when he cried about Tim, when he cried for his dad, when he sat with him as TK tried to understand how he felt about his parents expecting a new child.

He felt Carlos walk over to him, the man coming to stand opposite TK, “Okay I don’t know what happened today, but instead of taking it out on me, why don’t you tell me about it?” TK could hear the twinge of annoyance in his words. 

“Nothing happened!” He yelled, “I’m just tired so can we stop with this integration?” He finished, his voice lower this time.

“What happened to communication?” Carlos asked, lowering his head to catch TK’s eyes.

How was TK meant to communicate that he felt like his whole world had shifted, that just after he had thought he finally understood his life; he knew nothing again. TK didn’t want to worry, didn’t want to wait with bated breath every time the 126 or Carlos went on a call. It was suffocating and exhausting and TK knew he couldn’t keep it up much longer. 

Yet, he didn’t want to quit, he loved his job, he just needed to cut out the worry, soothe his fears. 

TK pushed off the counter and walked across the room to the door, “You know what I’m really not in the mood for a lecture right now,” He said, he was focused on a way to quite the never-ending worry in his head, and that was something TK knew how to do.

“Where are you going?” Carlos called after him, walking across the room.

“Imma crash at my dads,” He said, grabbing his jacket off the side.

“TK stop,” Carlos said, lightly grabbing his bicep to spin him around, “Talk to me,” He said, no anger in his voice anymore; just concern.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” He said, slipping out the door before Carlos had a chance to stop him.

TK wondered for a while after that, he didn’t go to his dads. While things with his mom had calmed down he was not in the mood to hear them argue. 

After a while TK ended up at a bar on the far side of town. It was the same bar he’d gone to after his fight with Judd. He knew known of the 126 would be there, no one to stop him from doing something he knew was monumentally stupid. 

TK weaved past the drunken crowd, ducking and weaving as people pushed and yelled. 

Eventually, TK found the bar, noticing the same server as before. 

She looked over and seemed to notice TK, coming over.

“Brave of you to come back here after last time,” She smiled, leaning on the counter, “Luckily your two friends haven’t been here in a while,” She laughed.

TK hadn’t even thought about that possibility, “So mineral water or something stronger this time?” She asked, standing up and tapping the counter.

TK just looked at her, he’d lost count of the number of simple questions people had asked him today that seemed impossible to answer. TK hadn’t come here to drink, he knew this is where the dealers hung out, that’s who he was interested in. TK felt his heartbeat hard in his chest, this was a bad idea, a terrible one. What if he got caught, what if someone was an informant or undercover. 

He should just go home, apologies and talk to Carlos. 

TK swallowed, “Something stronger,” He said. She nodded, walking away to prepare his drink. It would just be this night, some pills and a little booze to quiet everything down, to let logic back into his brain while emotion was quiet. 

The waitress placed a clear shot down in front of him, TK paying her without looking away from the glass.

Tequila.

He could already smell the drink. 

One shot, one pill and then TK would leave, able to finally get some rest. TK reached out, holding the shot in his hands for a moment before throwing it back. Wincing at the familiar burn in his throat. 

Just one shot. 

The alarm clock was still blaring, TK’s legs hung over the edge of the bed, the world around him seemingly shifting and blurring. The tip of TK’s toes brushed the cold floor, he had hoped it would ground him; he was wrong.

TK rubbed his hands down his face, pressing the balls of his hands into his eyes.

Everything hurt.

His head, his legs, his arms; everything. TK glanced over at the clock, slamming his hand down on the button to quiet it.

_ Shit,  _ he only had an hour till work. TK stood from the bed, reaching out to grab the wall when his legs almost collapsed.

TK took in a deep breath, then another. 

He was fine. 

TK ignored the images that flashed up in his mind, closing his eyes tight when they tried to crawled their way out.

He’d fucked up last night.  _ Big time _ .

Everything had just been too much; his parents arguing, losing Tim, nearly losing his dad during the wildfire. Every instant just brought him closer to the edge, an edge he had been balancing on since he'd got to Austin.

The warm shower TK had did little to ease his pain, even though he washed a few minutes ago the sweat still gathered on his forehead, he didn’t feel warm; he was cold. TK shrugged his uniform on, his hands shaking as he fastened the buttons. TK fished around in his draw, pulling out the bag of pills he had bought last night. TK slipped his normal dose into his mouth. Over the years TK had perfected the right amount of oxy to take to ensure he could still do his job safely yet could still feel the effects in the back of his mind. 

TK had taken one last night, that combined with the alcohol had sent TK into a deep sleep, no waking up in the middle of the night, no worrying.

TK started to head down the stairs, hearing his mother in the kitchen. TK thought about just slipping out, till he remembered his keys were on the kitchen top.

TK swallowed, taking a breath and standing up straight; ignoring the cramp that shot through him.

He strode into the kitchen like it was any other morning, and not like TK was currently hungover out of his mind. “TK, I didn’t know you came home last night?” His mother said, standing with one hand on her hip, wearing jeans and a loose top, “I thought you were Carlos?” She asked.

TK reached out to grip the island in the middle of the kitchen, partly because his legs already felt tired, and partly the mention of Carlos brought a wave of sickness over him, “We had a fight,” he muttered. It was a very simple phrase that encompassed a very complicated situation. 

“Oh sweetie,” She frowned, walking over to him, her arms crossed over her chest, “What about?”

TK just shook his head, their fight seemed to be about everything and nothing at the same time. TK had been so tired after his shift and starting to teeter on the edge he had ever so carefully balanced himself on.

“Are you feeling okay, you look ill,” Gyweneth asked, her hand going to touch his forehead when he pulled back.

“Thanks, mom,” He sarcastically said. Grabbing his keys off the table, going to turn around when his mother grabbed his hand.

“You’re pale, sweating,” She said, coming to stand in front of him, looking down at their hands, her frown growing, “and shaking,” She said.

TK pulled his hand back “I’m fine, I just didn’t sleep well,” He smiled, it feeling as forced as it looked, “I’ve got to go to work!” He said, turning around and heading out of the door.

TK leant against the door; there was no way he could drive to work. 

TK pulled out his phone, ordering an uber, after a few minutes he slipped inside. TK slumped down in the back of the uber, his hands coming up to grip the headrest in front of him, his head coming forward to rest on them.

_ Fuck fuck fuck. _

The waves of nausea were hitting hard, not as hard as the cramps that were now starting, like someone taking a bat to his stomach. TK wiped his forehead on the back of his hands, noticing the sweat that lingered on them when he pulled back.

_ Pull yourself together.  _ It was just a hangover. Although it had been years since he had one but he was sure they didn’t feel this bad. TK steaded his erratically growing breathing as the uber pulled out of the drive towards work.

He just had to get through his shift, fix things with Carlos and then sleep; then everything would be alright. 

_ Fix things with Carlos.  _ They shouldn’t need fixing, TK shouldn’t have fucked it up in the first place.

It hadn’t just been one shot, deep down when TK had walked in there he knew it wouldn’t be. After more shots than TK wanted to admit, he’d spotted some guy in a dark corner of the room rather obviously shaking hands with a number of people he didn’t know; a dealer. 

After that, the night grew blurry but TK did remember feeling relaxed and calm. 

Rather too quickly for his liking, the uber pulled up to the station.

As he slipped out of the car TK stumbled for a moment, an intense drowsiness coming over him. TK blinked, his eyes feeling heavy. He walked into the lot, the air feeling cold, TK wrapping his arms around his stomach.

He walked into the kitchen; he just needed some water, and some food. The dizziness grasped hold of him and made him grip the island in the middle.

“You alright man?” He heard Mateo ask. 

The sickness steamed rolled TK, causing him to grip the counter harder, “Yeah, I’m good,” He said, but it sounded more like a gasp.

“Really because you look rough,” He asked, he could hear the crew walking around him but he couldn’t focus on any of them. Everything felt like it was spinning and shifting like someone was pulling the titles out from under his feet.  _ This wasn’t a hangover. _

“I think what Mateo means is, you don’t look well,” Marjan said, she was leaning on the counter across from TK, her brows furrowed.

Judd came to stand next to TK, “Yeah If I didn’t know you were sober, I’d think you were hungover,” TK had managed to keep the shame and guilt buried deep in his chest, but in that moment TK felt them rise. 

He’d been sober, and now he wasn’t. 

“Just feeling a little sick,” Again his voice sounded like a gasp, TK found his breathing was no longer erratic but slow, every breath feeling like an effort. TK tried to ignore that voice that told him something was wrong.

He just hadn’t taken Oxy in a while and his body was just getting used to it. TK felt his head lol forward, the intense sleepiness pulling at him again.

“TK,” He heard a voice say. TK hadn’t noticed that his dad had come into the room, and was now next to him staring right at him, “What’s wrong?” He asked.

TK tried to speak but his voice got caught in his throat, the breath seemingly seeping from his lungs.  _ Something was wrong, really wrong. _

TK tried to step back, to get some space for everyone but his legs had other ideas. His dad managed to catch him before he collapsed on the ground. He could hear his dad saying something but he couldn’t make out the words. Another wave of sickness crashed over him and TK managed to break from his fathers hold in time to puke into the sink. TK gripped the edge on the sink tightly in order to stay up straight, tears beginning to run down his cheeks as TK rode out the cramp that shook his body. After what felt like a lifetime TK stopped puking, turning around to slide down the cabinet onto the ground. Gasping for air that just didn’t appear. 

The scene before him was hazy but he noticed a figure coming to kneel in front of him and a hand on his shoulder.

TK blinked a few times;  _ Tommy. _

“Everyone clear the room,” She yelled, pulling equipment out of a bag, “Captain I know you’re worried but I need some room,” She said. It must be his dad next to him, the pair continued to argue for a little longer till Owen finally agreed to step outside the kitchen with his team. Tommy placed an oxygen mask over his head, clearly noticing his lack of breath. After a few more check, things TK was too dizzy to understand, Tommy leaned forward, speaking clear and slow to him, “TK have you taken anything today?” She asked. TK went to speak but it just came out as ragged breathing, he just nodded, the realisation that this was not the time to lie, settling over him, “What are they?” she asked.

TK closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself enough to speak, “Oxy,” He choked out.

Tommy nodded, noting things down on a chart and pulling out more equipment, “Okay TK I think you’re-” The words blurred and TK could just see her lips moving for a moment, a loud ringing in his ear, “-an overdoes,”  _ Overdoes.  _ That wasn’t possible. TK had taken the same dose he’d taken this morning for years, sometimes he didn’t even feel the effects. 

_ This was wrong. _

_ Something wasn’t right.  _

__ “How...did you take?” His brain missed a few words but he worked out what she was asking. This couldn’t be an overdoes, it didn’t make sense.

_ This wasn’t Oxy. What had I done?  _ TK thought.

She asked something but TK could no longer hear her words or see her lips moving. His eyes grew heavy like there was an insurmountable weight on them and TK could do little as he was pulled to darkness.

  
  


Carlos tapped his phone against his worktop in the kitchen. He looked down every now and then to see if there had been a reply to his numerous messages. 

Nothing.

After TK had stormed out last night he decided to give his boyfriend some room, he knew he would be at his dad’s so he didn’t call him. 

TK had been on edge ever since the crew had lost Tim and he had almost lost his dad. He’d been tense, jumpy. Carlos had been there for him but it was clear that TK wasn’t ready to talk about what was so clearly bothering him. 

Carlos could feel as TK would lie awake next to him, holding on tightly to him every now and then. 

Last night things had clearly come to a head. Carlos cursed himself for letting TK walk out the door, but he told himself to give his boyfriend the night. Then tomorrow he’d talk to him. 

They had had small arguments before, and no matter what happened or what was said, TK would always text him to say he was at work and he was okay.

Yet, today he had had no text.

Carlos had texted him and called, but he had heard nothing. 

It wasn’t unusual for TK to not answer his phone if he was on a call but something felt  _ off.  _ Carlos told himself he was being paranoid but he had told himself the same thing when he heard a firefighter had been shot. He told himself there was no way it was TK, and look at how that had turned out.

Carlos pulled himself from the table, he’d just drop into the station. He hated when they went to work angry, their jobs were the kind where you never knew what was going to happen, where every goodbye and last conversation really could be your last. Carlos grabbed his keys and headed out the door. 

Carlos pulled up outside the lot, everything looked normal, everything looked fine. Carlos slipped out of the car and headed inside the lot, looking around. He could hear faint chatting from the kitchen.

Now he was here, he felt stupid, TK was fine, they had just had a fight. TK clearly just needed some time to himself today and then Carlos would talk to him tonight.

“Carlos,” He looked up to see Paul walking out of the kitchen, pausing in front of Carlos, “What are you doing here? Did Owen call you?” He asked, his hands shoved in his pocket.

Carlos shook his head, “I just came by to talk-” The words ripped through him,  _ did Owen call, _ “Why would Owen call me?” He asked. Paul froze for a moment, seemingly lost for words. Carlos felt a shiver run through him, Paul was never lost for words. The rest of the crew stepped out of the kitchen and gathered around Paul. 

Not all of the crew though, “Where’s TK,” He asked, his voice uncertain, a part of him wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

Paul looked at the group, all of their heads ducked. Paul walked forward, swallowing hard. Carlos told himself he was imaging how red Pauls eyes looked, and he was imaging the tear marks of Marjan's cheeks. Carlos was now almost certain he didn’t want to know the answer, “He’s in the hospital,” Everything froze for a second, before seemingly shifting to the side.

“The hospital? Is he okay?” Carlos stuttered.

“He’s stable, Owens with him,” That meant he wasn’t stable at some point, something bad had happened, something was gone very wrong. He’d been fine when he left Carlos last night, annoyed and upset but okay. He’d clearly gotten to work okay, so what had happened.

“What happened,” He asked.

Paul's reaction when he asked that question scared Carlos more than anything. He reached out and put his hand on Carlos’s shoulder, “You should probably go to the hospital,” Carlos nodded, thanking the group before running out of the lot to his car.

Carlos walked down the halls of the hospital, the cold feeling of deja vu starting to consume him. He’d walked down this hallway when TK had been shot, not knowing what was going to await him at the end. 

Carlos rounded the corner and saw Captain Strand hunched over in a chair, his head cradled in his hands.

Carlos reached his hand out to brace himself on the wall next to him, bile rising in his throat. Carlos took a small step towards the man, his eyes growing glassier by the minute. 

“Captain Strand,” He choked.

The man lifted his head and turned to look at Carlos. The rims of his eyes were red, tear marks still visible on his cheeks, “Carlos,” He breathed, standing up to shake the man's hand.

“I went to the station to talk to TK and they told me he was here, they didn’t say what happened is he-”

“He’s resting right now but he’ll be okay,” Owen breathed, his hand still clasped on Carlos.

_ He’ll be okay.  _ Carlos couldn’t help but notice that Owen didn’t say he’s  _ is  _ okay.

Owen sat back down on the chair, running his hand through his normally perfectly styled hair. Carlos fidgeted with his hands, he walked over and sat next to Owen, his hands clasped in front of him. “What happened?” He asked.

Owen just sighed, lowering his head. Carlos clenched his hands tighter, his jaw doing the same thing. The pause felt like an eternity, Carlos perched on the edge of his seat. 

Owen finally looked over at Carlos, “He overdosed,”

It felt like someone had swiped the chair out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground with an intense thud. The beeping of machines and staff talking seemed to drown out. “What,” Carlos gasped, barely able to hear his own voice above the thudding of his heart.

Owen looked off into the distances, “Fentanyl,” he said, his voice quiet. 

Now the floor was gone and Carlos was falling even further. He’d seen what fentanyl could do, been called out to overdoses more times than he could count. Carlos just shook his head, tears spilling out of the corner of his eyes. TK had been sober ever since he got to Austin, it hadn’t been easy, and TK had struggled at times but... “No, no that doesn’t make sense,” He whispered.

“I know,” Owen sighed.

How could something like this happen? How did Carlos not see that something was wrong, “We had a fight last night,” he breathed, his voice shaky, “I shouldn’t have let him leave,” If Carlos had just got him to stay, hadn’t let walk out like that. 

“This isn’t your fault Carlos,” Owen said, his hand resting on the man's shoulder, “If TK…” He let out a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling, “If TK wanted to use then he probably pushed you away on purpose,” 

He could tell the man was speaking from past experience, and the guilt that shone in the man's eyes told Carlos Owen had been through this situation before, “He’s been off all week, ever since-ever since Tim, and your accident,” 

“I know,” Owen said, rubbing his hands together, “I was going to talk to him about it but I didn’t want to push him,” He gave a sad laugh, “Guess I was wrong,” he finished. Carlos looked over and could see the shame swarming the older man's eyes.

“If I’m not allowed to blame myself then neither are you,” Carlos said.

Owen gave a small smile, patting Carlos on the back.

“Mr Strand,” A nurse said, both men rose from their chairs in sync, “Tyler is awake,” she smiled.

Owen gave a sigh of relief, nodding at her as she waited. The older man looked over at Carlos who was smiling, “Go talk to him, I’ll wait here,” He said.

Owen pulled the man into a hug, squeezing his shoulder as he started to head down the hall, speaking to the nurse.

Carlos sank back into the chair with a thud, reaching up to rub his eyes.

Carlos had so many questions, his head starting to ache from all the information Owen had given him,

An overdose. Carlos played the words over and over in his mind. How was that possible? He currently had a shit ton of questions with no answers. Right now he just focused on TK being alive.

There was a low beeping around TK, quiet humming filling the room. TK peeled his eyes open slightly, the small gap only letting in a sliver of light yet TK slammed his eyes shut hard. 

His head pounded and his body ached. He carefully peeled open his eyes again, hissing as the light stung. He managed to keep his eyes open long enough to register where he was.

White walls, white ceiling, the dull ache in his hand.

TK glanced down to look at the IV that was snaked up his arm leading to the bag of fluid hanging from a pole. 

He was in a hospital. 

He'd been in them enough to recognise the smell; the bleach, the cleanness; the feeling of shame that came with being here.

“TK” He looked up to see his father standing in the door, panting like he’d been running.

“What happened?” He croaked, his voice sore and scratching. 

Owen walked into the room, sitting down on the chair in front of him.

TK’s mind was a blur, visions and memories all jumbled up with nightmares. That’s what TK hoped they were, nightmares and twisted visions of what happened that were false. One look at his fathers exhausted and wretched face told TK they weren’t nightmares. 

Owen reached you and placed his hand on top of TK’s lightly squeezing it. “You overdosed,” He whispered, tearing his eyes away from TK.

TK wanted to be surprised, wanted to be shocked but he wasn’t. “A mild one, your breathing slowed but Tommy had you on oxygen and a Narcan ready,” TK blinked quickly, fighting between wanting to remember and wanting to push the memories away. “You overdosed on Fentanyl,” TK looked away, closing his eyes as a stray tear slipped down his cheek, “Why would you take Fentanyl?” Owen asked, his voice etched in sadness.

TK didn’t look at his father as he spoke, still fighting hard to keep the tears at bay, “I didn’t” He sighed, “I thought it was Oxy,” He clarified.

“Why were you taking Oxy?” Owen asked.

“Do the crew know?” TK said, changing to subject as he turned his head back to his father.

Owen gave a small nod, “They heard Tommy radioing the hospital,”

They knew, they knew he’d fucked up and they’d seen it, “Shit,” He cursed. 

Owen sat back in his chair, “Carlos is here,” TK snapped his eyes up to his father, not caring that they grew glassier as he heard his boyfriends name, “He knows,” He softly said.

TK wanted to curl up and disappear, wrap himself in these blankets so that no one would find one, especially Carlos. 

_ He knew.  _ The wave of sickness rolled through TK like a wave,  _ he knew. _ “He said you two got into a fight last night,” Owen asked, leaning forward on his knees.

“It wasn’t really a fight,” TK muttered, “I was just being a dick,” they weren’t arguing about anything, Carlos hadn’t done anything wrong besides care about TK, besides try and be there for him. TK shook his head, “I fucked up dad,” he said in a hushed voice.

“Why did you take those pills?” Owen asked again.

TK sunk back onto the pillow, staring up at the white ceiling, “I just, I just wanted to feel okay,” He breathed, “It was a mistake,” the ache covering his whole body and the guilt and shame that were firmly nestled in his chest told him that.

Owen ran his hands through his hair, tugging the ends, “Taking Oxy isn’t going to fix anything, and you know that,” Owen shook his head, resting back against the chair, “If you had taken a couple more of those pills you could’ve-” He stopped. The anger and words coming to a crashing halt. 

TK watched as a tear slipped from his father's eye. This wasn’t meant to be happening, his father was cancer-free, he was meant to be happy, “I just wanted to feel alright,” TK repeated. He couldn’t find any words that would make this okay, partly because there were none and partly beside the tiredness still weighed heavy on him, “I’m sorry,” TK choked, pressing his lips tight together as waves of emotions tried to escape.

Owen nodded, reaching out to take TK’s hand around, wrapping both his hands around, “It’s okay, you’re okay,” Owen repeated, and TK suspected it was more for the older man's benefit than TK. 

TK turned his head to the side, for once wanting tiredness and darkness to pull him away.

Carlos looked into the room, clutching onto the wall for support.

TK was lying still on the bed, no movement from his besides the slow rising of his chest. He looked so still, so not TK. 

“How is he?” Carlos asked, stepping into the room, the beeping from the machines growing louder.

Owen turned around to look at Carlos, before looking back at his son. Carlos walked to the other side of TK, sitting down on the flimsy hospital chairs, “Alive,” Owen said, clutching his son's hands like it was a lifeline, a reminder that TK was there, “Upset,” he finished. “You know after New York and the shooting I thought I was done sitting by my kid in a hospital bed,” Owen said.

Seeing TK in the hospital bed after the shooting was enough for Carlos, he had never felt fear like it, not knowing if the boy would ever wake up, “I appreciate you being here Carlos, but don’t you have a shift soon?” He asked.

“I called in,” Carlos said, his own hands wanting to reach out to take TK’s “I wanted to be here when he wakes up,” Carlos needed to be close to TK, to see his chest rise and fall.

Owen smiled, “You care about him,” It wasn’t a question, more of a statement but Carlos still nodded, “He care a lot about you too, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him as happy as he is when he’s with you,” 

A ghost of a smile crept up on Carlos's lips “He makes me happy too,” Carlos whispered, finally reaching out to brush his fingers across TK’s arm. Carlos wrapped his hand around TK’s arm, his eyes fixated on his chest.

Both men just sat there in silence, watching TK in the centre of the room, like if they looked away he might vanish. 

  
  


The humming and beeping slowly filled TK’s mind. He peeled his eyes open again, the light that stung his eyes before was less, the window against the wall was dark. TK noticed someone sat next to him, feeling their fingers wrapped around his arm.

He blinked against the blurriness that coated his eyes, Carlos coming into focus next to him.

Carlos was looking at him, his brown eyes wide as he smiled at TK, “What time is it,” TK asked, shifting on the bed to try and sit up, hissing and coughing as he did.

Carlos reached out to support TK as he moved, sitting back down in his chair once he was sure he was okay, “10pm,” Carlos said. “After your dad came in to see you, you fell asleep,” TK looked around the room expecting to see his father but it was just the pair of them in there, “I told him to go grab something to eat,” Carlos said, nodding towards the door.

TK just nodded, looking back at Carlos. He remembered his dad saying Carlos was here earlier, when there was still light outside the window, “You’ve been here all day?” He asked.

“I wanted to be here when you woke up,” Carlos smiled. TK pressed his lips together, feeling as the bottom started to tremble, “How do you feel?” he asked.

TK gave a small laugh, no joy to be found, “Like I’ve got the world's worst hangover,” He said.

“The doctor said you should be fine to go home tomorrow, they just want to keep you here overnight to make sure you're okay,” Carlos said, reciting what the doctor had told him. TK was more than sure that his father had been the one to convince the doctors to keep TK overnight.

“I’m fine,” TK sighed. It wasn’t the worst OD he had had, in fact it paled in comparison to what happened in New York. 

“You could have died,” Carlos said, his voice sounding unsteady. TK looked over at Carlos, the white of his eyes were red, unshed tears clinging to the water line of his eye, “I’ve seen what Fentanyl does-”

“I didn’t know it was fentanyl,” TK interrupted, “The guy told me it was Oxy, guess thats what I get for buying drugs from a dingy bar,” He tried to joke, but Carlos’s face told TK he wasn’t in the mood for joking. They just sat there for a moment, and TK watched Carlos.

He looked tired, stressed, his brows still knitted together.

TK hated that he caused this, he sighed, “I’m sorry for arguing with you the other night,” TK finally said, leaning back against the pillow.

Carlos' face softened, his head ducking for a moment before he raised it, “You wanna talk about what happened,” He asked. 

TK did not want to talk about what happened, but the pleading look in his boyfriends eyes, the way that hurt and guilt shone in them broke TK’s heart, “I was just tired and with everything going on I, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,”

Carlos moved his hand from TK’s arm, brushing his cheek, TK leaning into the touch, “You know you can talk to me about anything?” He softly said.

TK sighed. He trusted Carlos, he knew he would always be there for him but there was something inside him that didn’t believe it. He had once trusted Alex, had once thought he’d never hurt him, “I was just stupid,” TK whispered. 

“You weren’t stupid TK,” Carlos said, he moved his hand to run his hand through TK’s hair, “I’m not saying taking Oxy was a good idea, because it wasn’t, but you’re clearly hurting, and in pain,” TK pulled his eyes away from Carlos, not wanting his boyfriend to see the tears that were gathering, “I’d just wish you’d talk to me,” Carlos said, ducking his head to look at TK.

TK shook his head, “You’ve already had to deal with so much of my bullshit-”

“It’s not bullshit TK,” Carlos said, his voice strong but somehow still soft, “I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t bullshit,” He felt Carlos’s hand come to rest on the base of his chin, gently tilting it up so they were looking at each over, a tear slipping down TK’s face as Carlos spoke, “And I’m your boyfriend, I am  _ always _ here to listen,” He smiled, his fingers caressing his jaw.

It was as if Carlos’s words and soft eyes had managed to work their way into TK’s heart, carefully pulling down the wall he had been building the last week. 

Another tear slipped down TK’s face, his hands balled up together in his lap. “I was scared,” He confessed, the words barely audible, sounding more like a breath than anything else. Carlos's hand drifted down from his chin to rest on his hands. “After Tim, my dad and now my mom's pregnancy all I could think about was someone else getting hurt, or or losing someone else,” TK had been a firefighter for many years, had seen  _ horrific  _ things, but he had never lost someone; not until Tim. “Every time we were on call all I could see was danger,” You learn to ignore the danger to a certain degree as a firefighter. If you looked around and thought about everything that could go wrong, everyone that could get hurt, you’d never go inside the burning building. TK pulled his head up, shaking it slightly, “All I can think about is you or or my dad not coming back from a shift and it is driving me crazy,” TK had lost count of the number of times his dad would take a second too long to respond on the radio, or Carlos wouldn’t respond to a text and TK would spend however long it took to know they okay not breathing. TK looked up at the ceiling, “I just wanted to...numb it.” He sighed. Being numb meant you couldn’t really feel happy but it also meant you couldn’t feel the pain.

“Make everything grey,” Carlos said, echoing what TK had said at the police station.

TK had spent months trying to make things not grey, to make things real but lately, he just wanted to go back to the numbness, in a way it was easier, “Yeah,” TK nodded.

Carlos moved closer, his hands wrapped around TK’s, their fingers interlocked. “TK you just lost a friend, and you’ve got a  _ lot  _ going on, It’s okay to need time to recover, to need help,” TK  _ knew  _ it made sense, but asking for help...TK didn’t know how to do that, “If one of the 126 felt this way would you judge them-”

“No, of course not,” TK interrupted, shaking his head.

“Then why are you judging yourself?” Carlos asked, his brow raised. “It’s not a weakness to care, or to struggle, it’s life,” TK had been told numerous times at NA that it was okay to struggle, everyone did and it didn’t mean you were a failure, “Didn’t you dad say there were people you could talk to?” Carlos asked.

“Yeah,” He said, his dad had reminded the crew that there were people there to support them and services they could talk to. 

“Maybe you should make an appointment,” He said, his fingers brushing over TK’s hands.

TK nodded, “I guess I should make an NA appointment to,” He sighed, “I don’t know how I’m going to explain this,” He whispered, looking around the hospital room, “I was almost at a year,” He said, the shame creeping up in his chest again.

“And you’ll get there again,” Carlos assured, “I know this is hard but you’ll be okay, you’ve got NA, your dad, the 126,” TK nodded, Carlos moved his hand up TK’s cheek, brushing away the tear that had fallen, “And me,” He smiled.

TK felt the corners of his lips twitch up, some of the tense in his body starting to fade, “You're all pretty great,” TK smiled, watching as Carlos gave a small laugh, the action making TK smile even harder. 

“So are you,” Carlos said, his hands falling back into TK’s.

TK looked down at their fingers, biting his lip. Everything seemed much easier with Carlos around, but TK was still sitting in a hospital bed from an overdose, “So what now?” He asked.

Carlos paused for a moment, “Now,” He breathed, “You get better, and we go from there,” He smiled.  _ Get better, and we go from there.  _ TK knew the road ahead would not be easy, the first few months after an overdose never were but TK tried not to focus on the future. He focused on right now;  _ get better.  _ “And if that seems impossible, then know I will be here the whole time, supporting you,” Carlos finished.

TK felt the tiredness wash over him again, he moved on the bed until he was lying down, facing Carlos.

“Thank you,” He breathed, his eyes already starting to flutter close. He reached out with his hand, placing it on Carlos’s leg, “I love you,” He said.

He felt as Carlos placed his hand on top of his before leaning down to place a kiss against TK’s hairline, “I love you to Ty,” He whispered.

TK kept their hands entwined as he fell back asleep.

_ Get better and go from there.  _

With Carlos by his side, TK could do that and would do that.

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING 💛
> 
> any kudos or comments are greatly appreciated.


End file.
